Kiss & Tell
by Ellana-san
Summary: I did a few Clawen kisses request last night on Tumblr so here they are.


_I did a few Clawen kisses requests from a list on tumblr last night so here they are =)_

 _ **Kiss & Tell**_

 _ **6\. "I'm sorry" kiss**_

Granted, Owen is _maybe_ a little drunk.

Tequila and a disaster of a date – he isn't even _sure_ 'disaster' is a strong enough word to describe that date really – would do that to a guy, he figured.

Claire is very obviously angry. She is pouting, has been for almost an hour now, and that's almost as unfortunate as the tequila in his system because it means Owen can't look away from her red lips. He walks her back to her car even if she insists she will be find on her own – smashed or not, his mother hasn't raised him to leave a woman walk alone in the night – and the silence is every shades of awkward and uncomfortable.

He shouldn't have mocked her itinerary even if she has started it by mocking his board shorts. He loves his board shorts. _He_ has asked _her_ out, not the other way around… He had planned to take her for a drink and maybe a walk on the beach not the fancy restaurant she obviously expected judging by her notes. Who even bring _notes_ to a date?

Still, she is angry and even if he is a little angry too, he still fancies her and he would like to salvage the evening so he can ask her out again.

By the time they reach her car, he still hasn't figured out a way to say sorry.

The tequila has an idea though and he trust the tequila.

So he kisses her.

And she kisses right back.

For about two seconds.

Then she shoves him and the pout is back full force.

He decides it's the last time he apologizes to her.

 _ **8\. Seductive kiss**_

Owen doesn't need to be seduced.

He is seduced the first time he sees her stepping out of her car and strolling towards him in her high heels as if they're in an office building and not in the middle of the jungle.

That feeling only increases after he sees her outrunning a T-Rex in a similar pair of shoes.

Yet, they're still beginning to learn each other and he enjoys her seductive side very much. He enjoys the way she stretches when she wants to go to bed and he wants to watch TV a little longer. He enjoys the kisses she drops on his neck – it wouldn't take much more than that to convince him to go with her but he enjoys what comes next even more. He enjoys it when she kisses him so slowly and teasingly, her tongue poking at the roof of his mouth, that he has no choice but to follow her wherever she goes because he wants more, more, _more…_

Owen doesn't need to be seduced.

But he loves it when she seduces him all the same.

 _ **11\. "I almost lost you" kiss**_

She dreams and in her dreams everything is dark.

Not red because blood isn't red, not when there's a lot of it, not when it pools out of a dead body.

She's back to watching her tablet, her heart racing in her chest, her nephews asking in the back of the van how everything is going. She's back to feeling nauseous as she watches Owen escaping the raptors he has trained since they hatched.

Except he doesn't.

And she watches, she can't do anything but watch, as he falls to the ground and the blood pours out of him…

She wakes with a gasp, immediately reaching for him. The bed is empty and the sheets on his side are cold.

For an atrocious moment, she can't tell life from dreams and she bolts from the bed and runs to the bathroom, panics even more when she doesn't find him here, and then dashes to the living-room. She starts sobbing in sheer relief as soon as she spots him on the couch – where she left him before going to bed now that she thinks about it. His first glance is curious because he is engrossed in that movie he has stayed awake for, but his second glance is stricken and he is on his feet in seconds. He engulfs her in his arms, he tries to hold her close but that's not what she wants and she frames his face in her hands and pulls him in a frantic series of kisses.

"I lost you." she mumbles between kisses. "I lost you."

"I'm right here, Claire." he whispers, petting her hair. "It's okay…"

He has to repeat it several times before she believes him.

 _ **20\. Exhausted parents kiss**_

"I just don't get why that's so important." Owen sighs, mechanically scrubbing and sterilizing bottle after bottle.

" _Because_ the book says…" Claire argues, folding her arms over her chest only to wince when she remembers the dirty cloth tossed over her shoulder.

"Oh, forget the books." he scoffs, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. "She's a baby. All babies are different. Your book can't tell what _our_ baby…"

"But the book…" she insists, still unable to stray too far away from her plans and her notes.

"Claire." he cuts her off, more harshly than he intends to. "She's sleeping. She's fine. It doesn't matter if we didn't sing a lullaby tonight. She won't be traumatized the rest of her life because you didn't sing Soft Kitty, I promise. If anything she will _thank you_ for _not_ singing because you're tune deaf."

She glares at him briefly and then starts chuckling. He thinks it might be a little on the hysterical side but who would have guessed having a two weeks old baby would be just as difficult as being chased by carnivorous dinosaurs? They're exhausted. Simply, completely, utterly exhausted.

"You're right." she admits.

"That's something you don't say every day." he remarks, blindly feeling around for bottles that aren't there. Apparently, he is done with the chore for the night.

"Don't get use to it." she advises, pressing a kiss against his mouth.

It's barely more than a peck.

He's so tired he doesn't even notice.

 _ **21\. Jealous kiss**_

Taking the boys to the beach has been a good idea, Claire muses as she watches her nephews play volley with Owen. Lying on her stomach, she props her chin on her folded arms, very much enjoying the view safe behind her sunglasses. Owen is wearing navy blue shorts but that's the only piece of clothing he is currently wearing and her eyes can't get enough of his sun kissed skin.

She's so engrossed in her staring she almost doesn't notice the insistent giggling. Once she notices though, it is impossible to _un-_ notice that the two women are currently eyeing Owen like he is their personal man-candy _._ Claire is amused for exactly ten seconds. Then she is annoyed. Their giggling and the staring make her blood boil and it doesn't matter that Owen is completely clueless and immediately flashes her his patented cocky grin when he sees she's standing up and joining them because the two women are _still_ watching _despite_ the fact it is by now obvious Owen isn't single.

A point has to be made.

And she makes it by coiling her hand behind his neck and pulling him down in a kiss that is both dirty and usually saved for when they're alone. She barely feels guilty when she hears the synchronized "Aunt Claire, please!" coming from her nephews.

"I'm only wearing swimming shorts, Claire." Owen mumbles against her lips, holding her against his chest. "You _can't_ do this to me when I'm wearing swimming shorts and we're in public."

Her only answer is a possessive smile.

She is happy to notice the two women have stopped giggling.

 _ **24\. Returned from the dead kiss**_

"What do you _mean_ he took a fall?"

He recognizes the voice before he makes sense of the words. _Claire Dearing_. Red head. Annoying. _Hot_ …

"I _mean_ he took a fall." Barry replies tersely, before mumbling in his mother tongue. "À se demander dans quelle langue je parle…"

"But _why_ didn't you call for medical help?" she retorts.

Owen's eyes flutter open and he is greeted with the bright blue sky of the tropic.

"Because you barge in, demanding to see Owen." Barry sighs. "Look, I'm going to get a doctor, okay? Just sit with him."

His great view of the sky is suddenly partially obstructed by fire red hair framing a pale face.

"Oh, good. You're awake." she sighs in relief. "You can't imagine the paperwork when someone dies on the clock…"

That's not a very considerate thing to say.

"I think I'm dying." he tells her very seriously and only regrets it a little when he sees her frowning with worry – that could be because of the paperwork though so his guilt isn't crushing.

"You are _not_ dying, Mr Grady." she huffs.

She's the kind of girls who _would_ forbid a man from dying, he decides. Then again, she's so attractive, he can understand why someone would submit to her will.

"I could have died." he points out, propping himself on his elbows despite her remarks that he really should lie down and wait for the doctor. "Near death experience… It makes you think about your regrets…" He sits up and she steadies him with her hands. "I would regret not doing that, I guess."

She is not expecting to be kissed. Why would she? And he doesn't usually kiss his bosses either or just _any_ woman for that matter. It's a good kiss. It's a _great_ kiss. The best part is that she kisses back.

"The only reason I haven't slapped you is because you might be concussed." she declares afterwards, a little defensive.

The following days, Owen makes it his personal mission to make her agree on going out on a date with him.


End file.
